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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22516963">Studying You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolbreezemage/pseuds/coolbreezemage'>coolbreezemage</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ambiguous Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Hurt/Comfort, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 10:34:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,600</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22516963</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolbreezemage/pseuds/coolbreezemage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He's aware of what an honor it is to share the Professor's tent. It's almost enough to make him feel guilty for slacking off, not that he'd ever admit it. He’s always admired the man, always longed to know more about him, at first because of his unusual Crest, and later… for other reasons, ones he can’t quite quantify. They’re good reasons, good feelings, and that’s both infuriatingly vague and defined enough for him to shrug and accept it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Linhardt von Hevring/My Unit | Byleth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>102</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Studying You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is written to be ambiguous about what route you're on, so you can imagine whichever lord you'd like in command.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Linhardt has never particularly liked travel. Seeing new places, that he does like. But getting there is a tremendous amount of trouble and all things considered he would rather avoid it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When the Professor's army is on the move, it means he's expected to sleep at night and stay awake during the day like a normal person. Honestly, he doesn't understand it. Night is peaceful and quiet and comfortable. It's the ideal time to be awake, for reading and studying and fishing. Daylight is warm and busy and full of people who want to drag him into pointless chatter and tedious chores. Who wouldn't want to nap through that? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His mount shakes its head and makes a sound that might be a sigh. Lin wonders if it’s as bored as he is. He doesn't mind horses. At least they don't pester him to talk. But he's tried sleeping while riding and it doesn't really work. Though it does give him time to think, and while he can't read on horseback, at least not without getting a terrible headache, or perform any experiments, he can ponder what he's read before and draft plans for the future. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So he continues on, bored as he is, keeping his eyes on the Professor ahead of him. He’s never doubted Byleth’s leadership. That’s the real reason he returned to Garreg Mach after five long years. Not for politics - he’s never had the slightest interest in politics, to his father’s despair - but because he trusts that whatever the Professor is leading them to, it’s the right thing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There's plenty of time for him to work back at the monastery. He never knew war would involve so much waiting. Sure, there's training, and strategy sessions where they spend interminable hours reading the latest reports and figuring out where to send their forces next, and Lin is very often called to assist Manuela and Marianne in the infirmary - he shudders at the memory of the blood and pushes that thought aside for later or never - but there's a great deal of time he has to himself, and he's grateful for it. He would infinitely prefer there never have been cause for war at all, but he'll take what he's given. He’s spent long enough waiting for things to come to him to learn that they rarely do. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even with several different experiments to plan, the day is still interminably boring, and so Lin is very grateful when they finally stop and set up camp for the night. It’s getting colder by the moment as the sun sinks lower and lower towards the trees. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Try as he might to avoid getting roped into helping stake tents and mark guard borders, Caspar tracks him down almost at once and insists he put his height to use holding up the frames while Caspar hammers stakes into the ground. He sighs and does as he’s directed, giving only half an ear to Caspar’s breathless recounting of the last week’s axe tournament.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I really thought I was going to win, cause I’ve been practicing all month, you know? But then Annette comes in, and she lifts this massive blade like it’s nothing and totally knocks me on my ass!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm,” Lin says. “Well, at least this time you have a size advantage. If her strategy is to move quickly, you should stay grounded and try to overbalance her.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eh, I could try that. I don’t know if we’re going to get a chance to fight again though. The Professor says I’ve got to focus on brawling skills.” He punches one hand into the other, accidentally letting one of the ropes go slack in the process. He scrambles to grab it again as Lin rolls his eyes. “So I’m going to need to find Raphael and ask him to show me his stuff…” Caspar goes on like this for some time, barely pausing to let Lin offer advice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lin’s almost grateful when Bernadetta steps in a rabbit hole and twists her ankle, requiring him to set aside the work and go over to heal her. At least it's using his energy for something that won't just be taken down again in the morning. He carefully chooses not to think about the fact that he's patching people up just to send them back into battle  the next day. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the time he’s reassured her that no, it's not any trouble to heal her and yes, she's contributed enough to their efforts to earn a short rest, Caspar has finished with his tent, as have most of the others, and the day’s designated cooks have prepared a not-intolerable meal for the army. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They eat, and then the Professor pulls them into a brief strategy meeting to discuss the next day’s travel and any obstacles they might expect to meet: this town here has had reports of bandits recently, that one’s governed by a lord unsympathetic to their cause, and so on. Linhardt pretends to listen, but really he’s watching Byleth speak, watching his hands move over the papers and mark spots on maps with the flick of a quill.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Professor motions for him to stay behind as the others file out to prepare for sleep. For a moment, he worries Byleth is about to scold him for not pulling his weight in setting up camp. But no, it’s only to tell Linhardt that he’ll be sleeping in Byleth’s tent that night, because some of their supplies were damaged in the day’s travel and it wouldn’t be fair to make someone else triple up when Byleth is usually alone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He's aware of what an honor it is to share the Professor's tent. It's almost enough to make him feel guilty for slacking off, not that he'd ever admit it. He’s always admired the man, always longed to know more about him, at first because of his unusual Crest, and later… for other reasons, ones he can’t quite quantify. They’re good reasons, good feelings, and that’s both infuriatingly vague and defined enough for him to shrug and accept it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pulls his bedding as close as he can to Byleth’s side without him asking any questions about it. It takes a while to fall asleep, so accustomed is he to making use of the night for wakeful activities.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The peace doesn’t last. Some hours later, he jerks awake with a confused cry, head spinning and thoughts still half-drowned in shadows of the past.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beside him, the Professor wakes. "Linhardt? Are you all right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s not, not yet. He's trained himself to remember his dreams, in the hopes that they might contain useful revelations. Unfortunately, it means he remembers the bad ones too. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he doesn't answer, the Professor reaches out to him, the motion almost invisible in the dark. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He probably shouldn't be doing this but he's too desperate to care and surely they're both sleepy enough for him to get away with it. So Lin burrows into the Professor's chest and, oh, he's warm. And then he's rubbing Lin's shoulders and not saying anything which is absolutely perfect. Lin snuggles as close as he can get and decides to stay awake at least a few moments more so he can etch this sensation deep into his memory. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't move," he murmurs. "I'm conducting an experiment on the, ah, ideal temperature for cuddling."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He feels what might have been a laugh ripple through the Professor's throat. "How long have you wanted this?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, forever. But mostly since the Gautier affair."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the days following that mission, he'd had a series of truly awful nightmares about the Black Beast. The others hadn't been particularly sympathetic. Dorothea had even gone so far as to suggest it might be divine punishment for Linhardt pestering Sylvain for details about the Lance of Ruin and the Crest of Gautier until Ingrid had finally snapped at him to </span>
  <em>
    <span>"Leave him alone, you heartless freak!"</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wasn't heartless. He was simply practical, and dedicated to his research. Though looking back, he can't help but be embarrassed by how tactless he had been. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But the point was that several days into his torment, he'd curled into bed as dawn touched the sky and searched for an image that might drive away the fears lurking in the dark. And he had found that comfort in the memory of the Professor standing fearless before the demonic creature, striking it down with the glowing Sword of the Creator. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And he'd woken rested and full of curiosity, itching to learn all there was to know about Demonic Beasts and Relics. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now if only Catherine would let him hold Thunderbrand... </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But that doesn’t matter now. Not with the Professor here. With Byleth here. He tilts his neck up and presses a kiss to Byleth’s jaw, drawing a pleased hum from the quiet man. “You’re welcome to sleep here for the rest of the campaign,” he says, then adds, in an amused tone, “Not the entire time, mind, just at night.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mmhh, that’s good enough,” Lin says, settling his head against Byleth’s shoulder. His hair will no doubt be a tangled mess in the morning, but maybe if he plays his cards right, he can get Byleth to brush it out. But right now, he doesn’t want to think about the morning. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Theirs had never been a thrilling romance. Nothing dramatic and fiery like the things Dorothea sings of. Instead, it grew slowly, into a thing of trust and rightness and a curiosity that a lifetime of companionship could never sate. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Linhardt decides that’s exactly the sort of project he likes. </span>
</p>
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